Used to work in a drugstore... one day customer comes in looking for booze. We have this charming conversation:

Custy: Let me have a quart of [brand of gin that we don't carry].

Me: I'm sorry, sir, we don't carry [that brand].

Custy: OK, let me have a fifth of [same brand].

Me: (same response)

Custy: OK, let me have a pint of [same brand].

Me: (same response)

Custy: OK, let me have a half pint of [same brand].

Me: Sir, we don't have [that brand] in ANY size. We have [four other brands] in fifths, pints, and half pints.

Custy: OK, let me have a quart of [one of those brands].

Me: Sir, we don't have ANY gin in quarts. We have [four brands] in fifths, pints, and half pints.

Custy: OK, let me have a quart of [second brand]

Me: (same response)

(repeat for third and fourth brand)

Custy: OK, let me have a quart of [same brand this moron asked for originally]

Me: How about a fifth of [other brand]?

Custy: Yeah, that'd be ok.

*

Couple years later, we had a guy who wanted to buy a case of beer on Sunday.

(Sunday sale of carry out alcohol is illegal in Indiana.)

Me: I'm sorry, sir, we can't sell that to you today.

Custy: (belligerently) Why not?

Me: State law -- no alcohol sales on Sunday.

Custy: (more belligerent) When did that start??

Me: I don't know, sir. It's been that way as long as I've lived here. [it's actually been that way since about 1925]

Custy: Well, I've lived here for 20 years, and it's the first I ever heard about that!

Me: I'm sorry, sir, that's the law.

Custy: What is this, a dry county or something? [which proves that the lying turd actually just moved here from the South about two weeks ago -- there's no such thing as a "dry county" ANYWHERE in Indiana or in most other Northern states either]

Me: No, sir, if it was a dry county, we couldn't sell it at all. [thinking: Obviously it isn't a dry county, you fucking DUMBASS, if it was a dry county there wouldn't be TWO HUNDRED FUCKING CASES OF BEER RIGHT IN FUCKING FRONT OF YOU not to mention the TWENTY FUCKING FEET OF SHELVES of whiskey, gin, and vodka behind ME -- do you think that's here for DECORATION

Comments

Heh. Reminds me of my first time going to a bar out here. I had recently moved out here from Vegas, and decided to hit the bar. It was already fairly late, around 11:30 or so, So I go to the bar, and I'm drinking, time passes, having a good time, the usual. Do some karaoke, whatever. Around abouts 1:30 or so, I hear these words I've never heard before: "Closing Time, Last Call!" Now, had I been sober, I could've processed that no problem, but being slightly intoxicated, if not completely hammered, the conversation went something like this

ME: "Closing time? But thish ish a bar."
Bartender lookin at me like I'm an idiot: "Yeah buddy, we close at 2"
Me: "But thish ish a bar. And you're closhing?"
Bartender: "Yeah. We close at 2"
Me: "Ish there another bar?"
Bartender: "They all close at 2, man"
Me: *Confusedly calls a cab and makes my way back home*

I had a similar experience trying to buy beer after 2 am at the gas station, but I was only slightly buzzed that time, so it was easier to process. Turns out, there's no alcohol sales of any kind after 2 am.

Of course, so are a lot of the drunks. One new year's eve, knowing it was going to get pretty drunk out, I put huge signs on the doors, "NO BEER AFTER 2 AM". Covered a couple of standing signs for other products, "NO BEER AFTER 2 AM". Put signs on each of the cooler doors, "NO BEER AFTER 2 AM" and put broom handles through the doors.

Every ten minutes, starting promptly at 2am, someone would stagger in past the door, bump into the standing sign, yank on the cooler door for a while, then "Hey! Y'all ain't sellin' beer?"

And half of them are lawyers... "It's after 4 am in {county}!"
"Yes, but it's 2am in (town)."
"I can go down the street and get it!"
"Yes, because since they're 5 miles away from my store which is on the edge of town, they're OUTSIDE town, and thus not affected by the town laws."
"I'll never shop here again!"
"A'kay. Next drunk?"
"Y'all ain't sellin' beer?